


A King for a Queen

by kinkwriter



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkwriter/pseuds/kinkwriter
Summary: “Now, Madison . . .” he began, looking down at her. “If there is one thing I never wanted you to be, it was my mother.”





	1. Madison

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I was thinking with this fic. I just needed to write it and get it out of my system.

It was cold, the air moving quickly over the prairie and through Madison’s thin clothing. She hugged her arms together as she looked over the ranch. She shouldn’t have been there, but Troy had needed to talk, though so far this evening he’d been playing his cards close to the vest. He’d gone back inside after their chess game had ended with the younger man’s fallen king.

Walker was dead and Ofelia had run off yet again. She’d have offered the younger woman a place there if she could have, but too many had died because of her.

“You can’t save everyone.”

A jacket was draped over her shoulders as Troy came up to stand beside her, two lowballs partially filled with whiskey. Madison took the offered drink, sipping it only slightly before setting it down on the railing She pulled on the edges of the coat closer, drawing them over her icy fingers.

“It shouldn’t have gone down like that,” she said.

“An eye for an eye, Madison. We didn’t have the manpower for an assault because of what she did,” he said, looking at her. “This is what you wanted, remember? To be safe—to keep your family safe. They are now.”

At this, she finally turned her head to look at him. This young man who killed without remorse or guilt. There was no better world for him to have been born into. Troy took a step towards her and her breath shuddered as she stepped back the smallest bit. He froze, watching her face, his own expression surprised and then a harsh smiled pulled on his lips.

“You’re still afraid of me—even after everything I’ve done for you.” There was a note of resigned sadness there—the kind of thing she usually picked up from teenagers who were s beaten down they didn’t even bother to try anymore.

“You did it for yourself—”

Troy laughed outright at that. “Madison, I know you treat me like a fool when you goad me into taking action, but don’t think for a second that I would have done any of it without you asking for it.”

Madison licked her wind-chapped lips. “I’m not your mom—I don’t control you—”

He came towards her and she backed away as far as she could, her back hitting the post that anchored the railing, while her hand went to her waistband and pulled her knife. She would add another scar to his face if he threatened her again.

Troy’s fingers encircled hers and she struggled with him, knocking the glass over the side as he held the knife away from them. She gasped in pain as he repeatedly slammed her hand against the railing, slicing the skin of her palm and bruising her knuckles until she released her grip and the blade fell to the ground below.

“Now, Madison . . .” he began, looking down at her. “If there is one thing I never wanted you to be, it was my mother.”

Troy was quiet again, and the only sound roaring through her ears was the sounds of their mutual panting. She felt his eyes on her face, his fingertips running over the blood welling up over the cuts on her hand. 

When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t like hurting you. Don’t fight me anymore, okay? You understand me, don’t you? You know me,” he said before leaning in and brushing his lips over hers.

Madison felt her heart stumble and her breathing become sharp as he deepened the kiss, his other hand coming up to cup her jaw. It would be so easy to let him have his way. Indulging children usually made them stop crying . . .

_ But that was no way to learn, _ she thought, kissing him back as she pulled a small pocket knife out of her jeans. 


	2. Troy

_ It really was her, _ he thought, his hand holding her matted and dirty blonde hair away from her face. He was crouched down before her, her legs having been unable to hold her up any longer and she’d collapsed onto the floor after being brought in. Her expression was free from recognition, but he could see the fear spiking in her gaze.

“Where did you find her?” he asked, he eyes moving away from her face to her splinted arm, stained clothing, and torn up shoes. He could see the rust color of old blood crusted around the tears in her boots. They weren’t the ones she’d left with—not the thick and sturdy pair he’d procured  _ just for her _ while on a run. Her ankles were thin and raw from the ill-fitting footwear and as his eyes moved back up her form, taking in her frail appearance, his lips thinned even further. She had lost the healthy layer of fat and muscle that kept her looking youthful and strong. He didn’t like the way her collarbones stuck out over the trim of her tank top.

The bounty hunter stood behind him, the smell of body odor and cigarettes pervading the room with him at its source. “Some pseudo-government refugee camp up in Phoenix,” he said, his voice raspy from too many packs over the course of his life. “Don’t matter what name they put on it, though. It’s a work camp plain and simple—run by ex-military.  They’re handing civilians sticks and telling them to go and clear the streets. Bad business if you ask me.”

She’d made it all the way to Phoenix—clear into another state. If she hadn’t been waylaid by this camp, it was unlikely that he’d have ever found her again. She hadn’t met his eyes so he brought a finger beneath her chin, raising her head. He was looking at her but speaking to the hunter.

“Were her children there?” he asked.

“Yeah. I saw ‘em at the camp too, but I could only take the one and I figured you’d prefer her.”

He’d figured right. If her kids were still there, then he would need to send some of his men out to get them. Troy allowed the pad of his thumb to try and brush away some of the dirt on her cheek but it was crusted on and he figured the last time she’d bathed was perhaps the night she’d left the ranch. 

He let go of her and stood up, facing away from Madison. He made a couple of motions with his hands and Cooper hauled her up, his arms coming under her shoulders and knees, just as they had when he’d brought her in.

“Get her arm looked at first,” he said and Cooper nodded, carrying her out of the room. Troy licked his lips, a sigh falling from him as he looked the bounty hunter over. Joe—just Joe—was an older man, late fifties perhaps, topping six foot and at least two hundred and fifty pounds. He relied on intimidation to keep himself alive, and even now, surrounded by Troy’s men, he seemed perfectly at ease.

It helped that while Troy was clearly in charge of the ranch, he was careful to bury himself in the affectation of the slightly twitchy and out-of-his-depth boy leader. His men knew better, some of them even laughed at how easily he played these outsiders, one after another. 

People like Joe, they thought his lack of eye contact and mild stuttering was a sign of weakness—something they could take advantage of. They overestimated their control of the situation and underestimated how far Troy would go—what he would  _ do _ to them—to get what he wanted.

A shadow caught his eye and he looked towards the open doorway. Someone watched him—someone who knew Madison had returned. Troy ignored him for now and looked back towards the bounty-hunter.

“How difficult was it to get her?” 

_ How desperate were these ‘ex-military’, _ he thought. How much of a threat would they be to anyone he sent to retrieve Nick and Alicia. Would they become a bigger threat later? 

Joe shrugged. “I showed ‘em her picture and they instantly recognized her so your lady has a bit of a reputation in those parts. They had no problem partin’ with her. Bought her off ‘em for two packs of cigarettes and a box of candy bars—I expect to be reimbursed for those too.”

Troy nodded absently. If they were selling off people for those kinds of ‘frivolous’ items, then they had plenty of food to feed themselves as well as firepower to keep their workers in line. Troy wasn’t interested in a fight and Phoenix wasn’t exactly a walk in the park so a fair and peaceful trade would be ideal. He’d send more cigarettes and candy—perhaps a few boxes of rice as well in case the candy wasn’t enough for two younger people.

“You don’t have a car. How did you get her here?” he asked, his head tilting a bit. It was a question that had been bothering him. Joe had bought one of their horses off them when he’d come through the first time. Troy remembered him complaining about having to root around for gas.

Joe, while perhaps not the sharpest tool in the shed, seemed to pick up on the implications of the question. Still he felt he had the upper hand and was rather blasé in his delivery. “Well I only got the one horse, ya know. And that lady—she tried attacking me, stealin’ my horse . . . fightin’ something fierce so she had to walk, and then I had to limit her water and food to keep her . . . uh manageable.”

_ That would explain the weakness and bloody feet, _ he thought, thinking back to the days he’d spent walking with her through the desert. To do that again for more than 200 miles . . . 

Troy looked back towards the shadow beyond the door and nodded. Jake didn’t return the gesture, merely walked away. His brother would take care of the details.

“I’m sending some men out to get the kids too. You’ll get a finder’s fee of course as well for them, so tell me . . . where exactly is the camp?”

Joe thought a moment. Troy knew what the man was contemplating. He could hold on to that information—maybe go back and make the trade himself for the kids and get a bigger payday off them, but a two hundred mile trek through the desert with two more people wasn’t going to be feasible so he answered the way Troy expected. “North of the City. Deer Valley”

Troy smiled benignly, meeting the man’s eyes for the first time. “Thank you. Why don’t you stay here the night since it’s already so late. We’ll get you supplied up in the morning and you can leave after a hot meal,” he said gesturing towards the door. “My brother, Jake will see to your needs.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Jake appeared and Troy watched as Joe was lead away. His slightly hunched shoulders straightened and his stance widened as his breathing became slow and even. Madison was home again, and this time she wouldn’t be slipping away from him again.

He had all but given up hope of ever seeing her again. Almost a year had passed since she’d left him bleeding out on the deck of his own home. Troy fingered the slightly puckered flesh of the scar on his side through his t-shirt.

He left the room, uncaring of how the men and women of the ranch wordlessly moved out of his path like the parting of the Red Sea. It was late, the sky clouded and the night an inky pitch, but many were awake even now working the rotations that guarded their land around the clock. 

He stopped by the kitchens first, taking a tupperware container of that evening’s dinner with him before leaving. A few softly spoken words to Dax followed as he ordered and increased schedule of guards and scouts surveying the surrounding land over the next few days—if someone unfriendly followed Joe back to Broke Jaw, they wouldn’t live long enough to tell others about the ranch. 

Troy entered the large home that housed his family—what was left of it anyway. The sounds of children and drunken yelling had long since faded into the past. He ascended the stairs up to the second level, the cavernous wood-paneled ceiling and walls closing around him as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom. Photos of false happiness watched him, but the silent judgement of what he’d become did not cloud his mind this evening. 

Jake was off taking care of Joe, but Cooper stood silently outside Troy’s bedroom door. His brother had taken their parent’s old room while Troy stayed in his childhood domain. It was plenty large—only the best for the family of Jeremiah Otto, even if it was only for show. The door opened as he approached and the medic stepped outside, closing the room off behind him. 

Troy met him a few paces down the hall. “How’s her arm?”

The red-haired young man shrugged. “Mostly healed already. It’s an old break, not terribly well placed but I reset it and wrapped it up. She’ll want to bathe, but don’t let the bandages get wet.”

Troy nodded and allowed the man to walk away, his eyes moving back towards Cooper. “You can go back on duty. I’ll handle it from here.”

Cooper hesitated a second. “You sure about this Troy? Madison . . . she—”

“I said I’ll handle it,” he said firmly, though without any anger. Cooper had been the first one to find him as he’d stumbled out of the house, blood falling from the wound in his side. He’d helped Troy to the medic’s—had handled the ranch during those few hours when people didn’t know what had happened.

Troy remembered hissing out, “Find her. Find Madison! Bring her back!”

Cooper had relayed his orders but it was already too late. She and her kids had slipped away in the confusion. Months had gone by and he’d gone on every raid and outing, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. 

But she’d vanished.

Only to be returned to him a year later in such poor shape that he barely recognized her. He hoped this was a lesson she would learn from. He didn’t want to have to do something drastic.

Troy nodded to Cooper and the other man left. The hall was silent as he stood outside the door. She was just on the other side waiting for him. The knob turned, the door opening slowly under his hand. The lights were off to conserve fuel and only the illumination there emanated from the fireplace. 

The flickering light cast an eerie shadowed glow over the room, but his eyes adjusted to the dimness quickly. Madison was sitting in one of wingback chairs that he’d added not long ago, her newly splinted arm resting in her lap. She was quiet for a long time, looking down and away from him as he stood watching her. It could have been hours, minutes or second until she spoke. He had little concept of time when it came to waiting for her.

“You changed the place.”

Her first words to him were about the  _ furniture. _ Troy felt a shallow smile pull across his lips as he looked around. He had done some redecorating and he knew what she was alluding to. The last time she’d been there, a low full-size bed, a single dresser, and a desk and chair had been the extent of the effort he’d put into his own living space.

There was now a four-poster king size bed dominating the room with matching dressers set across from it. There was also a new small sitting area with chairs placed before the large sliding glass doors that lead out the very deck that she’d stabbed him on a year ago. She sat in one of the new additions, and he could see that she recognized them as the ones that had come from her old quarters before she’d left.

“I couldn’t stay the same as I was. Needed to prepare for the future,” he said, approaching her slowly. She didn’t move or flinch as he came nearer and he took that as a good sign. 

“My kids are still there,” she said softly.

Troy nodded slowly. “I know. I got men going out in the morning to go get them. Couple days and they’ll be back with you.”

She nodded as well, licking her parched lips and he saw her eyeing the tupperware in his hand. Troy didn’t make her wait long as he pulled the matching wing back over in front of her and pulled the top off. The smell of beef stew filled the room and he saw her swallow reflexively.

He scooped and bit up and held a spoonful out to her but she balked. “I can feed myself.”

Troy allowed another small smile, preferring this to the quiet. “Of course,” he said handing the bowl over to her trembling hands. She didn’t pick up the spoon and instead held the bowl itself up to her lips and began drinking in the broth. She was slow about it—knowing enough that too much would make her sick. He sat back, watching her throat bob with ever swallow of broth, meat, and vegetables.

Everything about her was too thin, to fragile, and not at all the way she should be. He blamed himself partially for her state. He’d thought only a minimal amount of coaxing would be needed to convince her to accept him. By that point, he was running the ranch and things were running smoothly under his leadership.

Even with his . . . tendencies, he’d known that she cared about him . . . he also knew that she’d intended to control the ranch through him. He’d thought it was only logical to move their relationship the next level. If she’d really wanted to maintain her seat of power, she would have gone along with what he’d wanted, just as she had when he killed Trimbols.

But she hadn’t. She’d stabbed him and then run away. 

Madison eventually finished, setting the bowl back down into her lap. He quickly took it from her, setting it aside. The room was quiet again and he hated that. Madison  _ always _ had something to say—this shell of a person in front of him was not what he wanted.

Troy took a chance, reaching out and taking her free hand into his, the pad of his thumb running over her knuckles, though his eyes were on the bruises that circled her wrists from being dragged behind Joe’s horse.

“What are you going to do with me?”

_ What a loaded question, _ he thought, though many of the things he longed to do with her would have to wait until her health improved. She was in no condition to even leave the bedroom, much less do anything else. 

“Well, first, you’re going to get a bath,” he said looking up at her.

Madison’s brow shot up and he laughed. “There she is,” he said softly. “Come on, you want a bath and we both know it.”

He stood up and put his arms around her helping her to her feet. I was a testament to how much she really  _ did _ want the bath that she didn’t fight him at all. Her legs shook beneath her in weakness as they walked and he had to resist the urge to pull her completely up into his arms and carry her. She wouldn’t appreciate it—not yet, anyway.

Troy helped her to sit on the toilet, lighting a small quickly so they could see before kneeling down at her feet. The fantasies he’d had about being in this same position ran briefly through his mind, but he shook them away quickly.  _ Later, _ he promised himself as he pulled her worn shoes off. She hissed as her sore and broken feet were revealed. The bottoms were bloody and bruised from the walking, though not as bad as they could have been.

He’d bandage them up later.

She was looking down at him, her gaze unsure as he glanced up at her. She knew what came next—watched him as he reached up and unbuttoned her shorts, pulling the fly down. This was not exactly how he’d always pictured undressing her—harsh moans and bitten lips usually accompanied  _ that _ fantasy—but even in this less than ideal reunion, she  _ needed _ him and he found himself wanting that even more.

Madison didn’t stop him as he pulled her shorts and underwear down—didn’t stop him as her breasts were bared to the room. Her skin was thin and and almost papery as it stretched over the harsh jut of her bones. He resisted the urge to linger there looking at her and instead he reached over and turned on the faucet, warming the water and turning on the hand-shower. 

His arm came around her back and he helped her into the deep claw-foot tub. She scrubbed her own body with her free hand while he held the handshower and rinsed away the suds and dirt. She could only do so much on her own though and eventually she was forced to accept his help as he came around the back of the tub.

“Let me help you,” he said as she leaned forward. Troy used his own shampoo in her hair, rubbing her scalp gently, careful to keep the soap off her face as he did so. He rinsed her hair, taking in the color of her blond hair as it hung in a wet sheet down her back. It was far longer than it had been before and he wondered if she’d cut it later when she again had access to scissors. 

She was still hunched forward so he ran his fingers along her back, moving the hair to drape it over one shoulder. Troy licked his bit his lip for a second before taking the soapy washcloth from her. He hesitated only slightly before bringing it to her back and moving it over her skin, tracing her vertebrae and counting them as he moved lower and lower. Eventually, the younger man couldn’t help running a few fingers down the protruding bones and she shivered.

Madison had been quiet for too long. “You shouldn’t have left,” he said, dropping the cloth and moving his hand back up to rest over her shoulder.

She didn’t immediately answer him, but when his fingers moved closer to her throat, she spoke. “You didn’t give me any other choice.”

Troy ran his eyes over her, never able to look at anything but her. “Why should I? There was only ever gonna be one ending for us.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t help you because of that—”

“I know,” he said, his fingers suddenly digging into her shoulder. “You wanted power—control—and you wanted to get it though me. You manipulated me and used Walker’s people to get everyone to see things in one way. You’re way.”

Madison sagged a bit then. “I was just trying to survive.”

“No,” he said, his grasp softening as he leaned forward and brushed his nose into her wet hair. “No. Queens don’t just survive. They’re the most powerful piece on the board with just one purpose.”

“Protect the king,” she answered quietly. She knew that, of course. She’d taught him to play chess.

“That’s right.”

Her hand came up and long fingers wrapped around his wrist. “You’re not a king.”

Troy smiled, pleased that some of her spirit was returning. “Aren’t I? I control the land a hundred miles in any direction—because of you.  _ You _ gave me the keys to the kingdom—helped me destroy my enemies, take control from my brother, even helped me rule for a time . . . before you ran away from me.”

Madison tried to pull his hand off her but he only held on tighter. “Why am I here, Troy?” she asked. “That man . . . he said you offered a reward for me that could set him up for years. I tried to kill you—”

He laughed, unable to help it, his other arm coming around her as well. He spread his fingers over the skin of her stomach and sternum and pulled her back so his face was beside hers, his breath tickling the skin of her throat and jaw.

“If you’d wanted to kill me that night, I would be dead,” he said factually. “You were far more lethal with the spoon. I’ve long since forgiven you for that little scratch—just another I can add to my Maddy collection.”

With that he pulled her up and out of the tub. She only struggled momentarily before sagging tiredly against him, and this time his arm came up under her knees, lifting her up. He carried her naked and damp body back into the bedroom, depositing her onto the mattress before going to his closet. He grabbed a white terrycloth robe and put it around her shoulders, helping her to close it around her.

The fire had died down a bit and the room was darker, but Troy didn’t bother lighting another candle. He liked the way the darkness seemed to envelope them, holding them together. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Why am I here?” she asked again, clearly becoming frustrated but unable to do anything to vent her anger. Troy didn’t answer at first—instead he pulled the sheet and comforter aside and picked up her legs, tucking them underneath as he pulled the blanket up to her chest.

He had both arms on either side of her, holding the comforter—and thus Madison—down. He let his eyes sweep her face, the prominent cheekbones and sunken eyes, bloodless lips and sun-marked skin. None of this detracted from her beauty. They only let others see what Troy saw. _ A survivor, _ he thought.

“You were mine the day you walked onto that base at the border,” he said quietly watching the way emotions flitted across her face. “The way you kept in control even as your family fell to pieces. I’d only planned to take you home with me . . . keep you safe.”

He remembered saying those words to her man—Travis. He’d wanted so badly to murder that man. He’d seen it even then that Travis would be a problem—the lack of fear, the beastial anger at the mention of Madison. The pit had been sheer laziness on his part, but then he’d needed to get back to Madison and Alicia and make sure they were staying calm. Even after the spoon, he’d decided that a well placed stray shot would rid him of the other man.

In the end, Travis’s death was not how he’d wanted it, but if the man had died by Troy’s hand . . . she would have  _ known. _ Just as she’d known about the Trimbols—just as she seemed to know everything about how he ticked.

Her blue eyes were on him now, questioning and searching just like they’d been that day in the office when she’d asked him if Travis was even alive.

“I did, didn’t I?” he asked quietly. “I kept you safe.”

“Yeah,” she answered shakily. 

He pulled a half smile and sighed. “See, you know me—you  _ see _ me. I told you that before, remember? You know what I am and you know what I need to be . . . you’ll stay, right? You’ll make sure I’m the person I need to be.”

It wasn’t a plea—it  _ wasn’t. _ He was the one in control, he had no reason to plead with her. Madison was smart. She knew which way to go when the winds turned. She would look at him,  _ accept _ him and stay.

But he watched her jaw tighten in frustration as she was backed into a corner. Her lips thinned and he was held frozen in the air as he realized that she may not consent to him—that she would turn away. 

His nostrils flared and his hand was on her throat like a viper, holding her steady as he leaned in. His body moved over her until he loomed above her like a demon. Troy’s lips brushed her forehead and cheek, scenting her skin before moving on and lingering beside her ear.  

His words were quiet as his breath ghosted over her skin, eliciting a shudder. “You’ll stay. You’ll be what  _ I _ need you to be.” He held on to her, allowing her head to move back to face him. He brought his forehead down onto hers resting there, waiting for her answer.

“Okay,” she said finally, her eyes meeting his. Troy only allowed the barest of smiles to show before he leaned in and slanted his mouth over hers. 

She didn’t fight him, didn’t exactly participate in the kiss, but it was enough for now. He would be patient and good to her until she healed.

Troy eventually pulled away, looking into her hooded eyes as she leaned back further into the pillow. “Get some sleep,” he said with a smile. “I still need to take care of something, but I’ll be back before dawn. Sleep as long as you want to.”

She nodded silently, her eyes drifting shut and he pulled away. Troy cast one more glance her way before leaving the room. He didn’t bother locking the door. She was in no state to escape and was hardly likely to even try when he had already promised to get her children for her.

Jake was waiting for him down in the foyer and his older brother watched him with not  small amount of trepidation as he descended the staircase. The pair of them left the house, walking side by side like the old days towards one of the outlying buildings. The door swung open silently on well-greased hinges and they strode inside. There was a long hallway before them that was lined with doors. A single candle lit the entire narrow space, casting peculiar shadows against the wood grain of the walls. The rooms were all empty—all but one, anyway.

As they approached the occupied room, Troy pulled his gun from his waistband and handed it to his brother who handed him a long hunting knife in return.

“Do you have to kill him?” Jake asked quietly.

Troy tilted his head, smiling as he pulled his favorite jacket off and draped it over a side table. “You saw Madison, Jake. If it was Alicia, would you just let him walk out of here?”

Jake’s jaw clenched and his brow furrowed as he glared at Troy. It was exactly the type of question he didn’t like. Any answer would either condemn the man or condemn himself. 

“I wouldn’t have put a bounty on her to begin with,” he said instead.

Troy laughed softly. “That’s the difference between you and me, Jake. If something is mine—I keep it, I protect it, I’ll kill anyone who tries to take it from me—you never had the sack to make those decisions.”

Jake shook his head. “Or the psychotic tendencies.”

“No, none of those either,” Jake replied grinning before quietly opening the door and shutting it behind him.

Jake held the door locked as screams echoed down the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of happy ending? Maybe? Yeah, these two are problematic af, but I love that kind of thing and there aren't nearly enough fics for them so please accept my humble offering towards our small fandom.


	3. Chapter 3

Madison stood just inside the door looking out on the ranch. She didn’t dare step out onto the balcony—that felt far too exposed. She turned away from the sight and walked back inside, shutting the door and sighing as she finally changed her clothes.

Her movements were slow and a bit weak as she buttoned her jeans. They were still overly large for her, and she hadn’t gained back all the weight she’d lost, yet. The loose flannel shirt hung off her shoulders and showed her too-pronounced collar bones, but Madison was done waiting.

She stepped out of the house and began making her way down the hill towards the common grounds where the majority of the ranch’s population spent their days. She’d known they would stare at her, of course. How could she not?

She even knew what they were saying. Madison Clark, mother of two adult children, slept in the bed of their young leader while her daughter had shacked up once more with the leader’s older brother. Very few had seen Madison’s sorry state, but the descriptions that had floated around in the aftermath had not been flattering. Had she been crazy to leave? 

Troy Otto kept the ranch under control with an iron grip enforced by his militia. He could have anyone and anything he wanted, and no one would lift a finger to stop him. But bafflingly, what he wanted, apparently, was an older woman who had attempted to gouge his eye out with a spoon.

Madison walked through the throngs of people, keeping her head up and her stride sure, even as weakness threatened to overwhelm her.

“Mom!” Alicia called from ahead of her. She looked up and met her daughter’s eyes as the brunette ran forward. “What are you doing out of bed? You’re still recovering!”

Alicia and Nick had been in much better shape than their mother when they’d finally arrived. They hadn’t been dragged through the desert for hundreds of miles and her daughter’s cheeks still bloomed with color.

“I’m fine. I just needed to stretch my legs,” she said with a small smile

Alicia put an arm around her shoulder. “Mom, come on, let’s get back to the house.”

Madison could pull away, argue, make a scene, but her authority going forward was already undermined enough with her leaving and now with Troy ordering her to stay in his home from now on. So she said nothing as Alicia walked her back to the big house. It was cool inside and she sighed softly as she practically collapsed into one of the living room chairs.

Alicia’s brows were furrowed in concern to see her mother so winded from the small bit of exercise. “You don’t have anything to prove, mom. There’s nothing wrong with taking a little time to rest.”

Madison shook her head. “They all see us as weak—that we don’t deserve to be here because we left.”

Alicia didn’t dispute her words, but instead pressed on with her worry. “It doesn’t matter. Troy . . . has made it clear that we’re staying.”

She knew Troy had already laid down the law, had beaten a man nearly to death for daring to try and undermine the youngest Otto’s decision about Madison and her children. No one would ever say anything to her face but it would be a long road before she was accepted again as she had been before.

The first step was reintegrating back into the daily routine of the ranch. Nick and Alicia were already doing so, but Madison hadn’t been able to even leave the bed for more than a week.

The front door suddenly opened and both women looked up. Troy strode inside, and he only needed to shift his jaw to the side for Alicia to back away. Madison watched her daughter leave—watched the door shut and said nothing as the silence stretched between them.

“Why did you try to leave?” The words were quiet—said with an unnatural patience.

Madison licked her chapped lips. “I wasn’t leaving. I just wanted to take a walk.”

Troy’s head tilted. “The doctor said for you to remain in bed for at least another week. What if you set back your recovery?”

“I’m fine—”

The young man took a step forward and Madison bit off her words. He continued until he stood in front of her.

“You’re not,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re trying to hold it together, but you’re far from fine.”

She sighed, feeling exhausted. “I need—need to contribute.”

Troy let out a chuff of a laugh as he crouched down in front of her. “You don’t need to do anything except heal.”

“I’m not weak—” she began angrily until his hand came out and touched her leg causing her to flinch. 

“I never said you were, but you aren’t strong—not yet. A few more days and I swear I’ll have you out feeding cattle.”

Madison swallowed as she watched him—didn’t put up a fight or say anything as he leaned in and kissed her. The second she responded, he pressed in further, forcing her back, his arms around her, holding her still as he all but devoured her.

She gasped for breath as her fingers dug into his chest

“Don’t,” he said “Don’t push me away.”

“Not here,” she said finally, looking around the empty living room. Either of her children or Jake could walk in at anytime.

Troy raised a brow but nodded, his strong arms pulling her up to her feet. He kept a grip around her waist as they ascended the stairs and made their way back to his . . . their bedroom. His gaze was predatory as he looked from her to the bed and she backed away slightly, but stopped herself as his jaw clenched in anger. He took hold of her wrist and pulled her towards the bed.

“You’re not supposed to be afraid of me,” he said with a sneer. “Out of everyone in this entire fucking world, you’re the only one who can’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said softly, only lying a little. She slid onto the bed and held a leg out to him as if to prove her point.

His finger ran lightly over the leather of her boot before he unlaced it and pulled the shoe off. She unbuttoned her too-big jeans and was even able to lift her hips as he pulled the pants completely off.

Her underwear was all that remained on her lower half and she blinked rapidly, unsure about what to do next. It’s not that she didn’t know about sex, but Troy was something altogether different than what she’d ever thought to deal with.

As it was, his lips brushed her knee, his hand running over her leg, catching on the hair that grew there. He didn’t seem to mind that she hadn’t shaved her legs since the dead started walking, if anything, he seemed fascinated by the sight and feel of it.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he said finally, even as he moved up her body. His eyes met hers and she blinked in confusion.

“You’re not well enough for that,” he said in answer to her unasked question, his finger running over the pronounced bone of her hip.

“What are you going to do then?”

He smiled. It made him seem young, but then he spoke again. “Something I’ve been wanting to do since the day you walked into the depot. While I was offering you tea, all kinds of dirty things were running through my mind. I kept wishing you hadn’t had a daughter—that I had you alone.”

“I wouldn’t have let you do anything.”

Troy shrugged. “I know—that’s what would have made it fun,” he said as his fingers hooked onto her underwear and he pulled them down as well. Her shirt and bra were still in place, the long soft flannel fabric pooling in her lap. 

He stood up and she scooted back on the bed as he followed, stopping only when the hand on her hip would not let her move any further away. He was still fully dressed, combat boots digging into the white sheets, but he didn’t notice or care as he spread her legs.

Madison let out a sharp gasping noise as the cool air hit her nether regions. She was wet, she realized. Wet enough that the summer air felt like ice. Troy paused, his eyes moving over her body, mapping and memorizing her.

“I kept wanting to turn you around and bend you over that desk,” he said quietly as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. “I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to hear my name.” 

He looked up at her and she gave him what he wanted. 

“Troy,” she whispered just as his fingers slipped between her into her slit, moving back and forth dragging her wetness up from her opening to her clit. His eyes never left hers as he finally leaned in and all but buried the lower half of his face into her mound.

Her breathing shuddered as his mouth moved over her most sensitive areas. She hadn’t had sex in almost two years and Troy was . . . very dedicated. She hesitated only a second before reaching over and bring her hand in his short hair.

It was the right move, she realized as Troy’s eyes slid shut and one of his hands came under her leg to touch her’s. He laced their fingers together and she squeezed as a particularly strong bout of suction picked further at her fraying nerves.

“Oh God, Troy,” she gasped out, blinking rapidly before biting her lip.

Troy looked up at her again as she stifled the noises that threatened to bubble up. She didn’t want anyone else in the house to hear . . . 

The young man then aggressively shook his head side to side, tongue and lips and suction moving over every part of her and Madison gasped falling back onto the bed. They continued the way for a while—minutes, hours, she wasn’t sure. Madison could only tell time by the number of times her body shuddered as Troy worked her over.

When she finally came, Madison turned her head into the pillow, biting the fabric to keep herself silent. Her breathing was harsh, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession as Troy gentled his movements but didn’t release her clit from his mouth.

Not until the sensitivity began to border on pain.

He moved then, resting his cheek against her inner thigh, while his tough came out and licked his lips. He was hard—he had to be, but he hadn't said anything or made any other overtaures . . . yet.

“Still not going to fuck me?” she asked, cocking a brow.

A smile spread over his lips and he hoisted himself up, crawling over her body until they were more evenly lined up. He rested himself over her and sure enough, she felt the tell-tale stiff peak of his erection against her thigh . . . and if she absently moved her leg just a bit and watched his small gasp, he didn’t mention it.

But he did kiss her. She tasted herself in his mouth—a tanginess that hadn’t been there before. 

“I said I wouldn’t fuck you,” he breathed as they pulled away. “If I did, you wouldn’t be getting out of this bed for days—and neither would I.”

“Really?” she asked dubiously, shaking her head at his youth. The young man’s expression flattened and his hand came up to cup her jaw, moving her face until their eyes met again.

“Madison . . . You really don’t get it, do you? The things you do to me? But you know . . . that once I make a decision about something—I have to see it through. It’s one of the reasons you supported me when I took over the ranch, right?”

She said nothing, but they both knew it was true.

“So when I tell you that we’ll be in this bed for days—that you need to get better so I don’t hurt you . . . you should know that I mean it. I’m going to fuck you over every available surface in this house. I’m going to put you on your knees and you’re going to suck me off right before you ride me in my father’s favorite chair.”

She swallowed at his words, at a loss, but also partially irritated at the way her own heart sped up. He would do all that, she realized. He’d given it some thought and was  _ planning _ to do it. Madison wasn’t sure entirely how she felt that.

Troy was not exactly hard on the eyes, but he was borderline unhinged at the best of times and this—this obsession he had with her . . . it didn’t seem to be abating. If anything, he was even more aggressive with her now than ever before.

Because she had no one and nowhere else to turn. Madison had supported Troy in destroying any and all enemies of the ranch, but now . . . now there was no one left who could possibly help her.

As Madison looked in his eyes, she realized that she was exactly where he wanted her.

“Get well soon, Madison,” he said softly before kissing her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there will eventually be one more chapter to this. A follow-up on Troy's 'threat', most likely. ;P


End file.
